


echoes of mine.

by courage_of_stars



Series: in the darkness, would you call in the name of love? [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF, Watcher Entertainment, Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intimacy, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27595921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courage_of_stars/pseuds/courage_of_stars
Summary: Against the pulse in Ryan's throat, Shane whispers, "Nobody knows my soul like you."---(A soft night together.)
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: in the darkness, would you call in the name of love? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655962
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	echoes of mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mental health, past self-harm, past EDNOS, trauma, NSFW
> 
> **Please do not share this with Buzzfeed Unsolved, Watcher, Worth It, The Try Guys, or any other RPF individuals. This is not for them to read. Thank you!

Neon emerald lines and dots glow 1:24 A.M. in the darkness. From the bedside table, the LED alarm clock stands guard over Shane and Ryan. Two bodies buried under bedsheets. A mess of tangled limbs. Chests rising and falling in sync.

Beyond the bedroom walls, house parties rage on. A kaleidoscope of colored lights bleed through closed blinds. Waves of electric cyan. Blasts of solar gold. Lines of fiery magenta. The whole spectrum of ROYGBIV paints over the room. Party #1 screams at the top of their lungs to Taking Back Sunday. Party #2 cranks up Sunmi to max. There's even a Party #3 as a crowd jams furiously to Dan Deacon. By some bizarre, beautiful miracle, the clash of genres, sounds and voices all harmonize.

After staying in LA long enough, people learn to sleep through the noise and lights. Growing up in Southern California gives Ryan plenty of experience. His childhood home is surrounded by houses that love throwing family parties. Extended relatives flock in by the droves. Sometimes, the gatherings merge into an impromptu block party. The neighbor's extravagant patio disco ball is the closest to stars Ryan has seen in LA. Rainbow lights keep Ryan company while doing homework, or watching The X-Files with his little brother.

Outdoor noise and lights grow into a peculiar comfort. Same goes for the liveliness of this neighborhood once Ryan moves into Shane's place. Rarely having a quiet night doesn't bother him. Ryan's more than happy with being held by Shane in bed.

And yet tonight, the REM cycle hurls itself out the window. There's no slow stirring awake. Instead there's an instant snap of the eyelids. Ryan's not immune to randomly waking at night. With sleep still heavily clouding his eyes, Ryan watches dancing colored lights. Blurry ripples. Geometric lines. Sleep calls him back.

But when Ryan sees Shane, he doesn't want to close his eyes. Not yet.

Shane's loosely closed hand rests near his face. The sleeve runs long enough to show only a glimpse of his fingertips. Ryan follows the cascading waves of brown bangs. Under regular lighting, the highlights burn russet gold. But when cool blue passes over the headboard, cerulean catches at stray strands. As if attempting a blind contour drawing, Ryan's eyes never once look away. His gaze traces the lines of Shane's face. Slowly, Ryan follows the path of that sharp jawline, and drifts downwards.

His eyes fall upon an explosion of deep alizarin. Love bites are left in the aftermath of a passionate mine field. Shades of red cross over to indigo as party lights swim over Shane's body. Ryan touches the edge of a hickey. Calloused fingers barely graze over tender skin. But Shane still sighs softly, and leans into the touch.

At home, Ryan and Shane don't bother with covering up the marks. They're worn proudly. Last night, Ryan and Shane arrive home after an extended Unsolved shoot. They finally have a chance to be alone. No cameras. No audio recorders. At home, it's only their eyes and ears.

In the space between Shane's shoulder blades, Ryan draws slow circles. He wonders if Shane still feels the impact of being pinned against the wall. The moment the front door locks, Ryan just has to kiss him. All the pent up hunger and love bursts out. Shane's breathless laughter rings sweet, warm and clear when revisiting that memory. 

Fingers brush the blemishes under Shane's jaw. Shane lets out another soft sound. It echoes the noise Shane makes when Ryan marks him. No matter how many times Ryan hears the sound, his heart seizes a little more. Love bites overlap down the pretty line of Shane's throat. Rouge flowers pool into the clavicles' hollows, spill over broad shoulders, then cascade down a warm torso. 

For fun last night, Ryan takes a shot at creating a heart out of hickeys. Halfway, Shane chimes, _"What if it's a pentagram? Maybe we'll ring up some local spirits!"_ Ryan almost collapses from laughing. Since Shane's laid on a pentagram before, it's not the most far-fetched idea.

But the pattern falls apart when Shane makes the damned loveliest moans, and gasps Ryan's name in a way that almost sounds holy. So, Ryan improvises. The one-half heart, and one-fifth pentagram grow into an uncharted map of constellations. Faint scratches connect vermillion starbursts.

The scarlet catastrophe grows past Shane's hips. Ryan adores marking his partner anywhere. But it's always thrilling to shape blemishes on Shane's inner thighs. It's even more thrilling to watch Shane fall apart under his mouth, his tongue, sometimes his teeth.

Ryan rests his palm over Shane's heart. Closing his eyes, Ryan tries to seal this memory. The steady rhythm of Shane's heartbeat. The quiet breathing that mutes all other noise. The warmth burning onto Ryan's hand.

His ribs ache with the weight of love. Even while asleep, Shane renders Ryan breathless. And when he's awake, Shane awes Ryan without even knowing it. Those familiar hands painting erratic, yet lovely shapes in the air. That favorite smile creating crescent moon eyes. The ever-growing collection of polaroids in Ryan's mind captures these fleeting moments.

Even moments like sitting together in shared pain. This relationship isn't only Shane and Ryan. It's Shane, Ryan, and their respective ghosts. They go by different names: anxiety, depression, trauma, fear, so on. Lurking in the background as the couple answers e-mails. Or boldly taking a chair at the dinner table.

There are polaroids where every shape and contour develops perfectly, but Shane's fading. Deep-rooted melancholy drains life and color out of the man. The scintillated light dims in his eyes. His voice is a house of cards on the brink of collapse. Sadness constructs a bullet-proof, clear wall between Shane and the rest of the world. Ryan knows it's never Shane's fault. Nobody fucking asks for mental illness.

Likewise there are days when Ryan can almost see through his own body. If he holds his hand up to the sun, Ryan swears the light will bleed right through his palm. In recurring nightmares, Ryan's hand reaches for Shane. But his fingers go right through the man.

Laughter and cheer rise from the parties outside. Artificial sunrise hues greet the bedroom windows. Ryan's hand gently presses on Shane's chest. Tears burn behind closed eyes.

People are often astounded by how stubbornly Ryan believes in the paranormal. It doesn't even compare with how stubbornly Ryan believes in their love. In their relationship. _In Shane._

Sometimes, Ryan imagines taking the monstrous mess of depression, anxiety and trauma by the throat, and barking, _"You can't have him. Let Shane go."_ Other times, Ryan imagines setting a third plate at the dinner table, looking at the uninvited guest, and saying, _"You're not scaring me away. I'm too fucking in love with him."_

Ryan's breath hitches when Shane's hand slides under his shirt. A quiet gasp melts into a gentle purr. The palm drifts up Ryan's back. He's memorized those heart, life and head lines. Sometimes during meetings, Ryan subconsciously draws the lines on a notepad. Ryan leans into the warmth of that steady, strong hand. Exhaling slowly, he curls up more against Shane.

"Hey, love." Shane's voice runs honey thick with drowsiness. His lips brush over tousled dark hair. "You okay?"

"Yeah." There's a bit of laughter in Ryan's voice. Along with traces of tears. Joy wins over fear as Ryan kisses the corner of Shane's mouth. "I'm okay." While lightly kissing warm skin, Ryan feels Shane tighten the embrace. His soft sigh wavers. "--fuck."

"Mm?"

Ryan touches the corner of Shane's lips. Right over where he kissed only moments ago. As if not to disturb the beams of violet light, Ryan whispers:

"I love you."

The words are barely audible, almost splintering at the edges. Easy to be drowned out by party music shaking walls, screeching wheels on asphalt, and red-eye flights roaring above.

But Shane feels every ounce of raw emotion. It's bewildering how Ryan doesn't just wear his heart on his sleeve. Ryan holds the organ up to the light. And god, how it beats beautifully.

Even with all the mayhem outside, time stands still in their home. Ryan lays on his side, dark hair utterly a mess, form outlined by Shane's shirt, warmth softening his eyes. The way Ryan looks at Shane strikes him with white lightning. Shane feels so alive wearing fractal patterns of Lichtenberg scars. The points where lines meet are celebrated with love bites.

Shane guides Ryan closer for a kiss. It starts off as light brushing of the lips. The kiss deepens as Shane's fingers curl in dark locks. "Love you too." The words melt like summer sunsets, leaving a sweet aftertaste. "Love you so fucking much, Ry."

Slowly, they relearn the shape of each other's mouths. Arousal dwells on the back burner. They fucked hard before falling asleep. They'll fuck harder in the morning. And they'll fuck some more this weekend. Right now, they just want to kiss lazily, trade soft touches, and whisper elated secrets.

"Remember our late-night talks?" Ryan brushes his nose over Shane's cheek. "Before we started dating."

The flood of memories brings a chuckle out of Shane. Soft bangs curtain over an eye. "Hell yeah, dude."

"You have any idea how hard I was falling for you back then?"

Shane's breath catches in his throat. "That-..." A faint tremor weaves in. "That was a long time ago."

Ryan brushes Shane's bangs back, so he can see those deep browns. "I've loved you for a long time."

In stunned silence, Shane stares at Ryan. Heat singes around Shane's eyes from rising tears. After his lungs remember how to breathe, Shane confesses, "I was falling for you too." His laughter cracks a bit, but it's still bleeding with warmth.

Ryan joins in with his own soft, delighted wheeze. "I don't know if this is weird or what, but..." Adoring Shane's smile, Ryan touches the corner of his lips again. "I like how we took our time. It was more than getting to know each other on the surface. It was like..." Ryan's voice trails off. A sleeve paw waves at the lights on the ceiling. Vibrant colors flutter around like abstract butterflies. Gossamer wings cast sparkling prism rays. Ryan's arm falls to drape over Shane. "Y'know what I mean?"

"Mmhm." Shane holds his partner tighter. Against the pulse in Ryan's throat, Shane whispers, "Nobody knows my soul like you."

A fierce rush of tears hit Ryan. Laughter escapes before his teeth can catch the sound. "And you know mine." Ryan's smile brightens the tears in his eyes.

As they kiss, Shane runs his hand down the side of Ryan's thigh. He guides it over his waist, so Ryan's half on top. Chests press flush. Heartbeats touch. Ryan's tongue flickers over Shane's lower lip. That lovely mouth opens to invite Ryan in. Ryan chases after Shane's gasps and moans. His own voice strangles when Shane scorches a handprint on his back.

Ryan parts the flannel to reveal more of Shane's chest. Fingers fall over violet accents criss-crossing on the gray fabric. Ryan's taken to buying some clothes several sizes bigger. Shirts, flannels, sweaters, hoodies, and the such. Shane just assumes his boyfriend's craving overlarge clothes.

During aftercare one night, Ryan slides his sweater on Shane. It fits him perfectly. As the dots connect, Shane tears up. It's always been Ryan wearing his partner's clothes. Ryan wants Shane to enjoy that comfort as well. Now, Shane's in his boyfriend's clothes most of the time at home. He takes Ryan's hoodie for comfort during Unsolved trips. Lately, Shane's grown fond of a faded denim button down. It's on par with Shane's favorite red and black flannel.

With the sleeve by his face, Shane breathes in Ryan's comforting scent. An exhale trembles as Ryan traces over Shane's scars. First with his fingers. Then with his lips. Tears sting Shane's eyes. He never asks Ryan to touch his scars. And yet, here's Ryan pressing his lips against the jagged lines and fractured moons. Earlier, Ryan confesses, _'I love you'_ with hushed words. Now, he brands them onto Shane's skin with fiercely adoring touches.

There are moments when Shane's thumb runs over the edge of his nails. The man imagines how it feels to break skin on his weary forearm. When fabric shifts as Shane reaches for a mug, phantom pain flickers down his arm. Shane doesn't try to bury the impulse. Or fight the pain, sadness, grief, whatever the fuck else is haunting him that day. Instead Shane breathes through each emotion. If that means crying in the middle of the kitchen while brewing coffee-- that's okay. The tears often end with laughter.

When Shane's hand rests over his abdomen, Ryan's breath stutters. The warm palm presses into well-defined muscles. Sometimes, Ryan's hit by the compulsion to touch his collarbone. Or compare the width of his thighs to Steven's and Zach's. The molds designed by past men still linger in Ryan's mind. They lurk like Iron Maidens waiting to entrap him.

But now, Ryan stands less before the mirror at every angle, and mentally sculpts his body to be different. He spends more time playing basketball with his brother. When Caleb punches him in the arm with a wild grin, Ryan's lungs ache with laughter. When Ryan sledgehammers the Iron Maidens doubling as caskets, Ryan feels his body become his own again. Metal shrapnel dissolves into shimmering stardust. In the voice of wind chimes, the debris sings, _'You are enough.'_

After hauling locked Pandora's Boxes out of the attic, and sharing their ghosts-- Ryan and Shane discover a sense of peace. Smoke passes. The atmosphere sweetens with the scent of long-awaited petrichor. The albatrosses around their necks are released into the wind. Dead horses are laid to rest, so flowers can grow from their remains.

Somewhere in the avalanche of tenderness, sparks catch flame. The yearning to be closer beckons desire into bed. Between their bodies, pleasure kindles slowly.

Ryan brushes his lips against Shane's cheek. "Do you wanna wait until morning?"

Shane glances at the glowing LED clock. The man feels the beginning of a wry grin. His eyes return to Ryan. "Technically, it's morning." As Ryan's sleeve playfully swats at him, laughter tumbles out of Shane. His knuckles caress Ryan's side. "Wanna feel more of you," Shane sighs under his breath. "Fuck me." Few stray strands fall across his face. Shane holds his soft gaze on Ryan. "--slowly?"

The reveal of vulnerability shakes Ryan's core. He'll never take for granted being shown these secret parts of Shane. "Yeah, babe." Ryan kisses the edge of a growing smile. "Gonna take my time with you."

And he does. Everything is drawn out, indulgent, gilded with worship. A Siken poem crosses Shane's mind. Maybe the words spark inside Ryan as well. Ryan's the one who shared it years ago during their late-night calls. The exact words don't resurface.

But Shane and Ryan haven't forgotten how the poem makes them feel. Hands roaming across bodies bring the words to life. Like colorful crayon rubbings capturing imprints of stunning leaves. The intricate details grow more vivid with reddening hickeys, light scratches, and blooming bruises. 

The poems speaks about love being more than the usual romantic love. And to them, it speaks about sex being something more, something deeper.

And god, if that isn't terrifying.

Ryan and Shane grow up with sex being described as solely physical satisfaction. But nobody talks about how it feels to have a lover sob their name against the curve of their shoulder. How every moan's vibration reaches into unknown parts, and resonates deep inside. Shane sees more than a Nietszche-esque void in his chest. And Ryan feels the fissures of his soul fill with liquid gold.

Nobody talks about how it feels when nails rake down bodies like comet tails, sparking the cosmos in their wake, leaving red lines to trace over tomorrow. Or how it feels when Ryan's pulse inside of Shane unravels them both. The electric current sets off a switch, exposing parts of themselves only their partner gets to witness.

Nobody talks about how it feels to discover something real. To be moved in a way that redefines every sensation. To go from being haunted by the mind's wraiths to being possessed by pure light. As Ryan kisses him deeper, Shane nearly sobs. It stokes Ryan's desire to take care of his partner.

"Always so damned good for me." Each word's emphasized with a hard thrust. Ryan finds it endearing how Shane tries to hide his burning face. "And so cute." With one hand, Ryan pins both of Shane's wrists above his head.

Shane inhales sharply. Every fibre of his being sets aflame at Ryan's effortless, graceful use of strength. Warm haziness quiets the storm in his mind. Shane's wrists lean more into that protective hold.

Lately, Ryan gives more non-sexual acts of dominance. A hand on the small of Shane's back to guide him somewhere. Rambling about new EVP upgrades while retying Shane's undone shoelaces. Fixing Shane's shirt collar before the cameras start rolling.

Every small gesture speaks volume to Shane. And it makes him ridiculously happy. There's probably a dozen YouTube compilations of Shane thanking Ryan with light kisses. (On his cheek, his temple, his hair, his shoulder. Sometimes on the back of his hand, fingers intertwined, looking right at Ryan. And with the way Ryan looks back at Shane, it leads to a kiss on his lips.)

"Fuck- _Ry-_ " Shane gasps between wanton sounds. Tears gather at the corner of his eyes. It's impossible to stay still under this onslaught of love. Throes resonate in his chest. "I--"

Being so in-tune with his partner, Ryan catches the hint of hesitation. "I've got you, Shane. You're safe here," he reminds gently. Ryan's free hand brushes soft bangs back. "Tell me what you want."

Shane closes his eyes. When Ryan plays with his hair, it's easy to get distracted. Breathing in deep, Shane looks at his partner. He kisses Ryan's ring finger. "I want everything with you."

It takes Ryan a moment to understand why the sight of Shane blurs. Tears melt all colors, shapes and lines. Ryan's heart fills until it overflows with laughter. As Ryan leans in closer, their foreheads touch. "Same," he whispers softly. "I want everything with you too, Shane." Without warning, Ryan surges in for a kiss. It's hungry, it's burning, it's loving. _"Fuck--"_ Ryan grits his teeth. Ravenous longing cuts at the inside of his mouth. "Babe, can I go little rougher-"

"Wreck me, Ryan."

Two words. One request. His name. It ignites a wildfire of desire, protectiveness, love, and everything else Ryan feels for this man. Ryan's hips slam in so hard that Shane screams. A galaxy of brilliant stars explodes in Shane's vision. Ryan moves his hand from Shane's wrists to his throat.

The great thing about neighborhood parties blasting music is that Ryan can fuck Shane so hard until his boyfriend's voice runs hoarse. Every gasp, every sob, every moan, every plea, every scream, every calling of his name, every _'I love you'_ \-- it's all so fucking beautiful, and Ryan wants all of it.

In return, Ryan spills words into his partner's ear. The kind of pretty filth that catches Shane's heart in a vice grip.

_("You feel so perfect." / "I'm not scared of your ghosts. I'm going to fucking devour them." / "I'm yours." / "Oh, I know, baby, I know. You've been craving this so much. I promise, I'll flood you all weekend." / "I love you, I fucking love you, I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you never doubt how much I love you--")_

Ryan knows Shane gets riled up by his Unsolved voice in bed. But Ryan gives Shane something no one else will ever hear. It's his voice serrated by fierce protectiveness, flickering at the edges with growling desire, hitting a deep baritone of unconditional love. Shane never ceases to unravel at this raw, carnal iteration of Ryan's voice. It reaches so deep that Shane's falling apart from the inside.

This is Ryan's chance to kiss every scar on Shane's arms, and seal kindness into them. It's a chance to leave fingerprints on Shane's thighs, hips, throat, and elsewhere on his body, so he feels Ryan on him for days. It's a chance to look at the sadness, the grief, the emptiness haunting Shane, and declare, _"Like Hell will I let you take away his joy."_ It's a chance to give Shane the love he's always deserved.

Sobs, moans and _"I love you"_ s bleed into each other's mouths. It's impossible to hold in all of this love, this light. Tears melt between brushing cheeks and wandering lips. Upon climax, violent tremors quake their bodies. They hold each other tightly, fingers curling into hair, or pressing into marks. Buried in deep, Ryan gives everything to Shane. Harsh sobs break free like resurrecting thunder. Shane takes everything Ryan gives, and lets Ryan cradle his exposed heart. Tsunami waves of colored lights pass over their bare bodies. Together, they ride out the climax's decrescendo. Hips move slowly. Fingers thread through hair. Melding lips trade soft words.

As the earthquake passes, heavy breathing and wrecked sobs fill the bedroom. There's no end to the tears. Ryan catches a few with light kisses. Although his voice is hoarse, the praise he gives is soft. Shane follows the sound of Ryan's voice. When Ryan's about to draw away, Shane holds him closer.

"Stay."

The single word pulls at a thread. As if Ryan isn't already an emotional mess, he unravels even more. Ryan's caught somewhere between crying and laughing. To Shane, it's absolutely beautiful. Raw intimacy overwhelms Ryan and Shane. Eventually, they'll get out of bed, and clean up. But for now, they lay close. Just for a while longer.

Ryan murmurs something into Shane's ear. Smiling, Shane whispers something back. Happy secrets collapse into warm laughter. A few wheezes join in. The sound of their joy glimmers with iridescence. Hands roam. They feel each other. They're not fading. They're alive. There's more to their bodies than uninvited ghosts. When Ryan reaches Shane's left hand, his lips give a promise to the ring finger.

Tears. Whispers. An aurora borealis of pure emotions. The party lights can't capture all the colors they see in each other. An ocean of neon pours inside. Their laughter shines brighter.

* * *

It's late.  
I'm searching for my other home,  
and I'm taking a path I don't know;  
A little path that runs alongside  
the factories and the city,  
cutting through the forest.  
I'm just starting to get a glimpse of nature,  
when suddenly, night falls.

I'm immersed in a world of silence,  
but I'm not afraid.  
I fall asleep for a few minutes at most.

And when I wake up,  
the sun is there,  
and the forest shines  
with a radiant light.

\- 'Echoes of Mine', M83

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ♡ I'm always grateful for everyone's support. I hold so much love for this series (including the [Zagene](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696462) and [Standrew](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780078) in this fictional universe.) Hope you enjoyed this story. Kudos, comments, and such are always loved :) Take care and stay safe! ♡♡
> 
> REFERENCES / INSPIRATION:  
> \- Fic title: ['Echoes of Mine' - M83](https://youtu.be/Aw73wifRdXo)  
> \- ['Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out'- Richard Siken](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48158/litany-in-which-certain-things-are-crossed-out)
> 
> [ Disclaimer: This is 100% a work of fiction. Family members and supporting characters are fictional original characters. No association with the real Ryan Bergara, Shane Madej, Andrew Ilnyckyj, Steven Lim, Eugene Lee Yang, Zach Kornfeld, Ned Fulmer, Keith Habersberger, and any other mentioned RPF individuals. ]


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